11. Right Hand Blue, Fucker
eleven
Right Hand Blue, Fucker
Dylan
“ I love it,” I say, admiring my new ink in the mirror.
“Are you just saying that, or do you really?” Leah asks.
“I really love it,” I assure her. “Are you always so self-conscious of your work?”
She points her finger at me. “Hey, my work is awesome. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t blowing smoke up my ass just to get some more booty.”
“Leah, as much as I’d love that, I wouldn’t bullshit about something permanent on my skin.”
She lets out a giggle. “Fair enough.”
After she covers my new ink, and I pay her, I ask, “Do you still want to get a drink?”
“Sure, sounds good. Where do you want to go?”
Small towns don’t provide an abundance of possibilities—at least not the ones around here. I sure as shit don’t want to go to my parents’ bar. I only know of one other place remotely close. “The Dells?” I ask .
While she puts all her equipment away, she replies, “As much as I’m usually in the mood for a crazy party like The Dells, I don’t know that I can handle the chaos tonight.”
“Do you know of anywhere else around here that we could get a quieter drink?”
She thinks for a moment while finishing her cleanup process. Once everything is back in the proper place, Leah looks at me. “Got any booze at your place?”
I grin. “I’ve always got booze.”
“Well then, let’s go.”
We each take our own cars back to my place. I assume Leah wants a quick getaway if she’s not having a good time. I don’t care. Whatever it takes to make her comfortable.
I really would have been fine with just going out for a drink, but fuck, I’m glad she offered to come back to my place. She’s sexy as hell—even when she’s piercing my skin with a needle over and over.
I have no clue what I’m doing. Leah’s said she isn’t looking for anything serious, and I’m supposed to be thinking about settling down.
Yet here I am. Going through leaps and bounds to jump back into bed with a woman who wants totally different things than I do.
What can I say ?
Sometimes, my downstairs head wins the battle, and logic flies out the window. If last time was any indication, I know it’ll be worth it.
I make it to the house first since Leah said she needed to lock up the shop. When I’m inside, I do a quick once-over to make sure it’s decent. But honestly, it’s fine. I’m a fairly clean person. I try to keep up on things to make it easier on myself.
When I bend over to pick up something off the floor, my shirt rubs against my fresh ink. The sore skin sends pain shooting across my chest. Guessing that’s going to be tender the next few days.
I’ve been thinking about popping my tattoo cherry for a while now. I’m glad Leah was the one to do it. Her work is beautiful.
I see her headlights in the driveway, so I walk over to answer the door.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I greet as she walks inside.
“I see we are starting the flattery early,” she jokes.
“Just speaking the truth.”
“Man, I bet you do ridiculously well with the ladies.”
I laugh. “I do alright.”
We walk into the open kitchen, and she sets her wallet and keys on the counter.
I open up the cabinet that holds the liquor. “What’s your poison?”
She eyes the bottles. “Whiskey.”
Grabbing two glasses, I pour a finger of whiskey into each and hand her one. She throws her head back and swallows hers in one gulp. I refill it as soon as she sets it back on the table .
This time, she picks it up and heads into the living room. Over her shoulder, she says, “Bring the bottle.”
I grab the whiskey and follow her. Instead of sitting on the couch, she sits on the floor on one side of the coffee table, so I sit on the other and set the bottle between us.
She points at my chest. “How’s that feel?”
“It’s sore…especially with my shirt rubbing against it.”
She takes a sip of her drink. “It’ll be worse tomorrow.”
“Fantastic. Something to look forward to.”
She looks me up and down. “You could just take it off. The shirt, I mean.”
Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “You want me to take my shirt off?”
“Merely for your comfort,” she says with a cute little smirk.
I sit up so that I can pull the tee over my head. Leah tries to hide it, but I catch her looking.
“So,” I begin. “That thing you were drinking to forget about the other night—did that ever get any better?”
She guzzles the rest of her drink. “What do you think?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nah, that’s okay.”
“I’m a really good listener,” I tell her.
“Problem is that I’m not a very good talker. Well, unless it’s shit-talking. I’m an expert in that.”
“I never would have guessed,” I tease.
She gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her thumb taps on the side of her glass as if she’s waging a war with herself as to how much she wants to let me into her world.
For a woman who oozes confidence and looks tough as nails, she manages to show the slightest crack of vulnerability .
But I don’t push. She’ll share if she wants to.
Finally, she says, “Due to recent events, I’m going to have to find a new place to live. Things have just been a little stressful.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah. It’s a very long convoluted story that I don’t really want to get into. But that’s the basic gist. And instead of dealing with it, I just want to avoid it a little while longer.”
“I understand,” I say, refilling her glass.
We are silent for a moment because I’m not quite sure what to say.
She’s the first one to speak again. “Sometimes, life is just an endless supply of bad news.” The words are in barely more than a whisper. I’m not sure the words were meant for me to hear.
“Do you have any family you could stay with?” I ask.
She looks at me. “Dylan, I need to say something.”
“Alright,” I say, refilling my glass.
“I’m not looking for anything here. I’m in no place to do a relationship—or anything even remotely close to it. In fact, it’s probably a good idea that this not go any further.
I smile. “Leah, you can leave any time you want.”
She runs her hand through her hair. “I know. What I’m saying is maybe you and I have some fun tonight. But after that, we go our separate ways. We leave it as just tonight. Then, we move on like it never happened.”
“Okay,” I say.
She points her finger at me. “I mean it. No dates. No calls. Nothing.”
“Let’s say I agree. First, you have to tell me why. ”
“Because I need to get my shit together in a very short amount of time. I can’t have any distractions. And although you’re a wonderful one, you’re still very distracting. I just need to focus on myself.” She pauses another moment. “So, I need you to promise me. One more night of fun, and that’s it.”
As much as I don’t want to make that promise, I understand the sentiment of wanting to get your ducks in a row. It’s not always an easy thing to do.
“Okay, I promise,” I agree. “Now, what kind of fun do you want to have?”
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I tell Leah.
“Right hand blue, fucker,” she barks while contorting her body.
Leah surprised the shit out of me when she spotted Twister on my board game shelf and wanted to play.
It’s not surprising that she’s wiping the floor with me. I may be in decent shape, but flexibility isn’t one of my strong suits. Leah, on the other hand, is bending like a pretzel.
I move my right hand to a blue circle and almost collapse in the process.
She flicks the spinner. “Left foot red.”
I’m now in a position where I am practically making a bridge with my body. Leah positions herself underneath me, and her blue eyes stare into mine .
“Right foot yellow,” she announces.
When I try to move my foot, she moves hers at the same time, and we collide, causing both of us to lose our balance and topple to the ground.
Through a fit of giggles, Leah says, “You suck at Twister.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, you just lost.”
Looking down at her as she lies underneath me, I say, “I have a beautiful woman under me. I think I’m the winner here.”
Her mouth curls up on one side. “Man, I bet you get so much pussy. I bet this place is a revolving door of women.”
I stand and hold my hand out to help her up. “Actually, you’re the first woman I’ve had here.”
As she stands, she says, “Yeah, right.”
“Leah, I just moved in a little over a month ago. Between moving, unpacking, and getting settled, you’re the first one I’ve had over.”
“I feel so special,” she says.
“You should. You’re one of the first people to even see it.”
“Look at you. Having your shit together enough to buy a house.”
I laugh. “I can hardly believe it myself. I even bought new furniture.” I gesture to the couch before taking a seat on it.
She gets a mischievous look on her face. “So, this is a brand new couch?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She walks over to me before swinging one leg over my lap and straddling me. Her arms snake around my neck, and she leans close so that her lips are barely touching mine.
“Maybe you and I should christen it.”
Her tongue runs across my bottom lip.
Fuck this woman is a drug that I won’t want to give up. But after tonight, I’m going to have to. I promised.
I guess we better make tonight count.
She leans further into me. With one hand, I grab the side of her face and bring her lips to mine. With the other, I squeeze her ass.
As we make out, I use my tongue to play with her piercing. She grinds her hips into me, and my cock hardens more with every move.
I’m just about to flip her over and take my time worshiping every inch of her body, but Leah has other plans. She slides off my lap and sinks to her knees at my feet.
Her eyes lock onto mine and stay there while her fingers undo the button of my jeans. I get lost in those pretty blues as she pulls out my cock.
I don’t break eye contact until something else pulls my attention—Leah running her tongue along the underside of my shaft all the way from balls to head. The smooth metal of her tongue ring sends a shiver through my entire body.
When she pauses to focus on the sensitive area under the head, I about lose my fucking mind.
“Holy shit, Leah,” I hiss.
With that, she takes me into her mouth down until my cock is touching her tonsils. She sucks me in and out all while teasing me with her piercing the entire time.
She was right—she’s a goddess with that tongue ring of hers .
If she keeps going like this, I’m not going to last very long. As much as I’d love to come down her throat, there’s no way I’m going to do that without getting her off first.
Fisting my hand in her hair, I gently pull her off me.
“That mouth of yours is going to make me bust,” I tell her while lifting her to her feet.
I join her and begin removing every article of her clothing. As more of her skin comes into view, I take my time teasing each bit. I bite her neck, kiss her stomach, and suck her nipples. Her cute little moans fill the air around us.
She’s so fucking sexy.
When I have her completely naked, I say, “Get on the couch. Bend over with your ass up in the air.”
“Oooh, what are you going to do, Boy Scout?” she teases while getting into position.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and wait and see?”
“I’m much better at being bad.” She wiggles her ass back and forth.
I raise my hand and swing it down, connecting with one cheek, getting a cute little yelp out of her. “Bad girls get red asses.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Sparky.”
As much as I enjoy that attitude of hers, I’m ready for her to start screaming my name instead.
I push her legs apart just a little and bury my face in her pussy. She tenses at first but is soon relaxing against me while I lick her clit and lap up all her juices.
“Fuck!” She cries when I find her favorite spot.
I hold her hips in place since she’s struggling to sit still. When she’s getting close, she cries, “Don’t fucking move! ”
I keep doing exactly what she needs me to—not changing a single thing. Moments later, her entire body quakes with her orgasm. I’m going to miss the way her sweet pussy tastes when she’s coming against my tongue.
I’m ready to get her off again just like this, but she begs, “Dylan, fuck me.”
Don’t have to ask me twice.
I quickly reach into my wallet to grab a condom and waste no time in rolling it on. Once my cock is sheathed, I run the head along her slit, coating it in her juices.
She lets out a loud, “Fuuuuck,” as I slip inside.
I start slow but gradually increase the tempo. Fucking Leah doggy style is everything I imagined it would be.
The way her back perfectly arches.
The way her big ass jiggles every time I slam into her.
The way she moans my name.
I try to commit it all to memory—although I don’t think I’m likely to forget this any time soon. It will live in my spank bank for years.
“Fuck, Dylan!” She screams. “Harder! Faster!”
I do as she asks, but she looks back at me. “Is that all you got?”
Reaching forward, I wrap her hair around my wrist while I pound the shit out of her.
Oh yeah.
I’m going to miss this.